The False Prophet
by wth18
Summary: The crew of the Andromeda land on a strange planet for repairs, which is never a very good idea.
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: The False Prophet

AUTHOR: Hannahthewriter

ARCHIVE: Oui, s'il vous plait, but tell me where it's going!

RATING: R 15

SUMMARY: After stopping on a strange planet for repairs, things go wrong for the Andromeda crew.

WARNINGS: Violence, language and shameless cliffies.

DISCLAIMER: Don't own it, Tribune do. I make no profit from this (unfortunately) I just like to write, hence the name.

**Chapter 1**

"_Wouldn't it be nice to be Dorian Gray,_

_Just for a day?"_

From _Narcissists _by The Libertines

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Clouds of thick, red dust billowed up into the hot air as the Maru landed on the strange planet. Small, rust-coloured reptiles scurried for cover as the thick powder settled once again and the crew disembarked, squinting and donning dark glasses to protect their eyes from the glare of the sun. Captain Beka Valentine was the first out. She had straight blonde hair pulled carelessly back into a ponytail and was wearing fine, white clothing to protect her from the sun and keep her cool.

'Wow, it's packed!' she said sarcastically, looking pointedly round at the deserted wasteland. She inspected a boulder for anything with teeth or claws that moved, found none, and sat down heavily.

Following close behind her was Seamus Harper, the engineer. His hair was a darker blonde and in contrast to Beka's plain white clothes he was wearing an unbuttoned bright Hawaiian shirt over a light blue T-shirt and orange slacks. He grinned at her and lay down in the crimson sand, stretched out and looking completely relaxed. 'Well, since we're here, might as well get a bit of sunbathing done! You know, mysteriously pale only works for so long.' He ran a hand through the dust, and then yelped as the hot grains of sand burnt his palm. He leapt to his feet again, scowling. 'Ah, it's murder on my butt, though. Hey, there's such a thing as overkill, y'know!' he yelled up at the sun.

Next there came Captain Dylan Hunt, trying to look cool but surreptitiously wiping a layer of sweat from his forehead. He was the only crewmember wearing a Commonwealth uniform, and it wasn't ideal for this kind of weather. He didn't say anything, but took a long drink from a canteen of cold water. Right behind him was Trance Gemini and Tyr Anasazi, the medical technician and the weapons officer. These two could not have been more different. One was a pretty girl with golden skin and clothes, the other a huge, muscular Nietzschean who had a permanent glower on his face.

'Please tell me why we are sitting around on this giant dustball,' he said with barely disguised annoyance.

'We need to make repairs, remember? You see, when people fire big exploding things at our ship it tends to get a little damaged, and we need to make a pit stop to fix it. It's why we have an engineer,' Beka replied, shooting a pointed look at Harper. He caught it and held up his hands.

'OK, jeez! The Divine forbid I should ever get two minutes rest,' he said defensively. 'So, you point me to the nearest Perseid machine shop and I'll pick up some spare parts.'

'Sorry, Shorty, I've got a gut feeling that Perseid machine shops are few and far between round here. I guess you'll just have to make do with what we've got,' Beka said with a smile.

'Huh, and that makes a change?' he retorted sulkily, but he headed off in the direction of the Maru anyway. He was about to board so that he could get some spare parts when a red-gloved hand smothered his mouth, stifling a panicked scream. The engineer was dragged away without any of the crew noticing.

'How long are we going to be here?' Beka asked, while behind her a cloaked figure dragged Harper away into a crack in the wall of a nearby rock formation.

'It all depends on how quickly the boy gets those repairs done,' Tyr said before Dylan could reply. 'And judging by how long it's taking him to fetch a few bits of scrap metal, that could be a while. Where is the child, anyway? He should be back by now.'

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Harper bit down viciously on the hand that was covering his mouth and managed to get out a strangled cry before his captor caught him and smashed his skull onto a rock. Stars danced in front of Harper's eyes and he felt a nauseating sensation run through his head just before he slumped to the floor.

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'Did you hear that?' Beka gasped, standing up and looking round like a deer caught in the headlights.

'Yes, what was it?' Dylan replied, also standing up.

'It sounded like Harper!' Beka said breathlessly. 'He sounded like he was hurt. Come on, we have to go find him.'

'Ha, not likely!' Tyr snorted, folding his arms. 'If he is indeed in danger then shouldn't we take that as a sign that following him is not wise?'

'Harper is a member of my crew, just like you, Mr Anasazi! The Commonwealth looks after its own and I am not leaving him behind. Anyway, it could just be that he dropped something on his foot, you know what he's like,' Dylan responded with a little weariness in his voice. The crew stood up and started to follow Harper's path to the Andromeda. Dylan, Beka and Tyr were arguing about what to do, but Trance was looking ahead of her, frowning in fear and anxiety. She knew more than the others and knew that this was a bad idea.

They reached the Andromeda and stopped, unsure of what to do next. Then Beka gave a soft cry and dropped to her knees. The others looked where she was pointing. Just two metres away, the red sand had been scuffed and kicked up as if there had been a struggle. Leading away from it was a trail where the sand had been disturbed, almost as if an engineer had been dragged away against his will.

Suddenly the remaining crewmembers were surrounded by red-robed figures, their faces hidden in shadow. They had been hiding under the sand, breathing through tiny hollow tubes, and now they revealed themselves, outnumbering the two humans, the golden girl and the Nietzschean by at least 10 to 1. Resistance was futile, and the strangers grabbed the crew of the Andromeda, blindfolding them and tying them up. They dragged them away to the hidden lair in the rock formation.

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Harper groaned and opened his eyes. He remembered what had just happened and his eyes widened. He saw the red-robed figure that had kidnapped him sitting by a roaring fire. He tried to move but his hands and feet had been bound so tightly that his wrists and ankles were swollen. He settled for abuse instead.

'Hey, ugly, nice hideout. Don't you think the evil super-villain lair thing is a bit last millennium, though?'

The hood moved a little as if in a breeze, and the creature spoke. 'Watch yourself, Mr Harper, you may not have noticed but I am in the perfect position to pull your scummy mudfoot tongue out through your ears.' Harper's mouth dropped. He recognised that gravely, snarling voice. He stared as the hood was lowered to reveal the smug Nightsider underneath.

'Gerentex…' he whispered, disbelieving.

'Once again, Mr Harper, I feel that you were expecting someone else. And once again you are completely at my mercy. I hope that offers you some comfort.'

'Screw you, Ratface, 'cause Dylan and the others are gonna find me and when they do you'll be dead before you can say, "I'm a waste of space."'

The detestable rat-faced creature laughed mockingly. 'Oh, Mr Harper, did you really think I was going to let that happen?' He clapped his gloved hands and three-score similarly dressed figures dragged the rest of the crew in front of the fire. Harper groaned inwardly, but didn't reveal his disappointment.

'OK, OK, just tell us your dastardly plan like I know you're just bursting to do,' he muttered, rolling his eyes.

'With pleasure,' Gerentex sneered. He saw Trance staring at him, her mouth open. 'Come now, my dear, you didn't seriously think that a few Tundra flowers were going to keep a genius like me quiet for too long? Oh no, my heart is in the business of crime… uh… I mean, faith,' he added quickly as a couple of the red-robed shuffled around and muttered between themselves. 'Do you remember I told you that I started my own religion, that it was a failure? Well, apparently it was not as much of a failure as I had first thought. The people holding you now are what remain of my faithful followers, the Gerentexians…'

'Woah, slow down there, oh Prince Of Originality,' Harper muttered. Gerentex looked at him and snarled, but didn't reply.

'As I was saying, I am now a prophet to my people. But I never lost sight of my main goal, the one thing that I have yet to gain; complete control of the Andromeda and all its wealth…'

'Ah, and there was me thinking that you just wanted to sit around and sing "Kumbaya",' Harper broke in again, unable to resist. This time Gerentex lost control and hit Harper across the face, his claws scoring deep, bloody lines in the engineer's skin.

'It was _you_!' he hissed malevolently. 'Everywhere I turned you were there, screwing things up for me! When I first tried to take control of the Andromeda, I leave things to you and you decide to join the old relic and its crazy Captain on an insane quest to restore the Commonwealth! I come within grasp of Histuri's diary and the path to Tarn Vedra, and you steal it from me, you take it for yourself! Well, not this time, Harper, now the Andromeda's mine and I'm going to make sure that you never come between me and by profit, ever again!' He motioned to a couple of his cronies, and Harper was sure he could see a pair of ratty noses under those hoods.

The two 'Gerentexians' seized Harper under his arms and dragged him away to a rock with a few strange stains on them; barely noticeable for they were the same rust-red as the rock itself. Harper gulped. He knew that colour.

One of the creatures grabbed a hunk of his hair, pulling on it until the muscles and tendons in Harper's neck creaked, and forced his head down onto the rock. The engineer gave a panicked scream as the other creature pulled a wickedly sharp double-edged axe from the folds of its cloak. It raised the axe over it's head, held it there for a few agonising seconds, then brought it crashing down, leaving a glittering arc in the air.

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_Hey, you were warned about the cliffies! For all your ranting needs, click on **submit review**._


	2. Chapter 2

_Yeesh, I'm a crappy updater Sorry this took so long. Oh well, at least I didn't leave you with a cliffie or anything. ;)_

**Chapter 2**

The crew, and Harper, held their breath. They were waiting for Harper to leap up with sudden super-human strength and snap the Gerentexians' necks. They were waiting for the executioner to misjudge his stroke and for the axe to bounce off another rock. They were waiting for a crewmember to break free and save the engineer. Hell, they were waiting for Superman to crash through the wall and grab Harper, whisking him away just in time. Unsurprisingly, none of these things happened.

The blade of the axe smashed into Harper's neck, slicing through flesh and bone and blood, and severing his head from his shoulders with a nauseating crunch. An unbelievable amount of blood splashed onto the walls in a random pattern, and created rivers and pools of blood on the cave floor that rapidly became a crimson lake. Harper's head came away in one of the creatures' hands and it held it up like a trophy. For a moment, all that could be heard was the resonating clang of metal on rock, then a silence that was impossibly loud. Then Beka started to scream.

Captain Beka Valentine was tough. Ask anyone, they would say that she could be all over a guy one minute, then bite his balls off just to get to his wallet. This was the woman who had pulled more dangerous schemes just for the hell of it than most men put together. This was the woman who had dated and scorned the notorious Bobby Jensen. Yet when she saw her friend, the happy, friendly blonde guy who had been more like a brother than a friend and who had stuck with her through all the jokes and derisive laughs, when she saw him die in such a gruesome way, it hurt. At first she was sure that she must have been stabbed or shot, for the pain in her heart was so immense. Never listen to someone who scoffs at the idea of someone's heart breaking, because a broken heart is an infinite multiplication of the most potent physical pain. It cannot be measured, it cannot be touched or reached and the most skilled doctor in the universe cannot heal it. Beka knew this, and felt there was nothing left to do but scream.

Technically, she had nothing to worry about. Obviously, what she had just seen was impossible; something out of those disgusting holo-horror films that Harper was always insisting she watched with him. He would always cheer when some idiotic girl who was showing more cleavage than should be legal was slashed into or carved up or exploded or whatever the sick minds of the one hundred and first century could conjure up. Beka remained deeply offended that the faceless girl was invariably blonde.

Yet, the fact remained that Harper had just had his head cut off in front of her eyes, and the scream escaped her lips, bouncing off of the cave walls until it sounded ten times louder. It was not even a proper scream like in the films, but a volley of shrieks and sobs that came in time to the panicked tears dripping down her face. The rest of the crew knew that she needed comfort, but each of them could only stare in silence at the bloodbath in front of them.

-

_Ow!_ Harper thought. _That _really _hurt! _It was a woefully inadequate description of what had just happened but, hey, he was in shock! He wasn't about to come out with a wailing Wicked-Witch-Of-The-West act. Besides, he wasn't melting. He was just standing there, a little light-headed (such an inappropriate phrase!) but with all his body parts still firmly attached, wearing normal clothes. _Woah, destined to spend the rest of eternity in a Hawaiian shirt and orange slacks._ He was about to laugh, but then he turned round and saw his body, with his head a little too far away from it for comfort.

'OK, I _so _didnot need to see that!' he moaned, covering his face with his hands. Unfortunately, his hands had grown slightly less solid and he could see through them. Despite himself, he was impressed. 'Cool! Ectoplasm!' he said, holding up his now transparent hands and marvelling at the slightly misted view of the world that he could see behind them. Then he shook himself. This was no time for playing games. He saw Beka kneeling on the floor, howling in anger and grief, and went over to her.

'Hey, boss, it's OK, I'm right here!' he said, trying to put a hand on her shoulder and shake her out of it, but his hand just went straight through her clothes and skin. He snatched it back, seriously freaked out at this point. It was strange that he was not more upset, considering that he had just died, but it seemed that death came with a free anaesthetic. Pity it didn't work for those left behind.

He had the strange sense of someone clearing their throat without actually making a sound. He turned round and saw a tall figure in a black robe.

'Yeah, what?' he said defensively. Then he remembered. 'Oh, right, the decapitation thing.' The figure didn't move, but Harper thought he saw a grinning skull in the recesses if the hood. A skeletal hand protruding from one of the sleeves clutched a staff that seemed to be made out of human bones. _Puh-lease, cliché anyone? _Harper thought, but even his diplomacy-challenged mind could tell that this might not be the wisest thing to say. Especially since he had no intention of going with this guy.

'Sooo… that's a lovely dress… uh… I mean… death shroud that you're wearing this evening,' he tried hopefully. _Damn, damn, damn! Shoulda stuck with the cliché thing!_ The skeleton didn't say a word, but extended a bony hand towards him. Harper could feel himself being dragged away from the cave and the others. This skeleton dude definitely meant business.

Suddenly, he was angry. He was Seamus Zelazny Harper, and just because he was dead, it didn't mean that he was about to be dragged kicking and screaming into the afterlife by a vocally challenged, cross-dressing, mouldy old bag of bones. He was going to stay here and help his friends, whatever it took!

'Uh, excuse me, Mr Death guy?' he said cautiously. He gave the skeleton an embarrassed look, leaned forward and whispered: 'Your flies are undone.'

Death, The Grim Reaper, The Destroyer Of Worlds, The Keeper Of Souls, The Ferryman Of The Newly-Dead, whatever he might be called, looked down at his crotch. Harper took the opportunity to abandon all pretence of coolness or bravado and legged it. By the time Death realised that his flies were fully zipped up, the engineer was long gone.

-

Harper was back in the cave. Beka had run out of breath to scream with and was just curled up in a foetal position on the rocky floor. Her face and clothes were covered in red dust and blood that had splattered onto her face when Harper's head was knocked from his shoulders. She was clutching at her heart, squeezing her hand into a fist in an attempt to counteract the excruciating mental pain she felt with the physical pain of her nails digging into her skin. Needless to say, it wasn't working.

However horrific the execution had been, it had been effective in subduing the crew. Perhaps if the twisted Nightsider had shot him or stabbed him, they might have leapt up in fury and overcome him and the Gerentexians. However, they were still trying to absorb the fact that Harper had been beheaded, and that there was considerably more blood in the human body than they had at first thought was possible. To make matters worse, Harper's bloody, mangled remains had been thrown on the fire, and the stench of burning flesh now filled the room. Beka had vomited several times, Dylan had gone a nasty green-grey colour, and Trance could only stare at the flickering flames and the human bones with an expression on her face that spoke of insurmountable guilt and horror. Tyr was sitting with his back to the fire and the rest of the crew. Even if they could have seen his face, they would not have been able to read it, for it looked as though it could have been chiselled from stone. He was only interested in one person.

Gerentex whispered something to one of his followers, who laughed softly. He had an air of unrepentant greed and smugness, but even he was avoiding looking at the fire and the corpse of his adversary. Perhaps he felt that this time he had just gone a little bit too far, losing his balance on the thin tightrope of a line between crime and evil.

Harper's reaction to seeing the remains of himself was beyond grief, beyond crying and screaming. The anaesthesia that had at first numbed the pain of his own demise was gone; perhaps it lasted only until the Reaper arrived. For a few moments he felt a horrifying yet attractive temptation to walk into the fire and lie amongst the blackened bones of his physical body and wait for a second chance to pass on. Perhaps the heat of the fire would burn away the agony he felt. The pure, unmatched ennui and the feeling that it had been his heart ripped away instead of his head. Then the sorrow and mourning was gone and he was left with rage, a thirst for bloody revenge and destruction. He turned away from the fire to look at the Nightsider who had ordered his death.

Taking even himself by surprise, Harper hurled himself at Gerentex. Being a ghost, his swings, punches and curses had no effect on the rat-faced felon, who simply sat there grinning, entirely unaware that he was being viciously assaulted by his one-time arch-nemesis. But for Harper, it was the perfect way to vent his fury and frustration.

'That was me!' he screamed at Gerentex, tears pouring out of his eyes and vanishing into the wind as soon as they appeared. 'That was my _life_, Goddamnit! I was Seamus Harper; I was a living, breathing human being! That was the only thing I had left and you took it away from me, you _bastard_!' As his fists passed harmlessly through Gerentex's smugly grinning face, Harper realised the futility of his attack, and sank to the ground as though all the energy had been sucked out of him. Luckily, someone with a little more influence was about to take over from him.

'You…' Beka had stood up and was starting to walk towards Gerentex. Her hair was all over the place and her clothes and skin were filthy, but by the light of the flickering fire she was suddenly impossibly beautiful. Her muscles were taut, her creamy skin highlighted in shades of orange and yellow and red, her cheekbones outlined in shadow to give her an almost gaunt appearance. Her eyes glittered malevolently with hatred and unchecked tears made tiny rivulets in the red stains on her face, making it look like war paint. She may have only been a grieving human but at that moment she resembled a Greek goddess. Gerentex heard the single word and saw her approaching him and something not unlike fear passed across his face. He gave a surreptitious nod to one of the Gerentexians, the one that had killed Harper.

The red-robed fiend stepped forward to meet her. It pulled out the double-bladed axe from its robes once again; the blade still caked in the engineer's blood. Beka stopped and waited without a trace of fear on her face. The Gerentexian lifted the axe, and Harper saw with horror that his friend was about to meet the same fate as him. He jumped back up, screaming and cursing at her to get out of the way, every bad word he had ever heard rolling freely from his tongue. He stood between her and the slowly rising blade, waving his arms frantically, painfully aware of his uselessness. The blade had stopped at the highest point of its arc and there was nothing he could do to prevent it from falling.

Just as the axe began to descend, a bullet travelling faster than the speed of light knocked it far away across the room, breaking every single bone in the Gerentexian's hands. The creature screamed in agony and turned to face its oppressor. Another bullet blew a hole the size of a dinner plate right through its abdomen and out through its back. As the creature fell back, still screaming, the hood fell away to reveal that the Gerentexian was, indeed, a Nightsider.

Every head in the room turned to look at the android walking into the cave. Rommie smiled benignly, as if she was a long way away from it all, lifted the gun and shot another Gerentexian right between its beady eyes. As if this was some kind of signal, every one of the followers in the corrupted Nightsider's cult rushed towards her. Gerentex, who had been looking worried, grinned, but his relief was short-lived. Instead of attacking the beautiful robot in the doorway, the red-robed, rat-faced disciples streamed out into the glaring sunlight, falling over each other to get as far away from Rommie as possible. Despite the fact that he was dead, Harper felt little bubbles of satisfied happiness rekindle his old personality.

'Oops, looks like you're not as good a public speaker as you thought you were, eh, Gerentex old buddy?'

The same thought seemed to have crossed the ex-prophet's mind. He tried to sidle away into a small crack in the wall, but Rommie saw him and shot at him, deliberately high so that the bullet pounded into the rocks a few inches above his head, showering him in sparks and chips of red rock. He dropped to the floor; his hands over his head, quivering like a newborn foal. He didn't escape the watchful eye of Beka, though, nor that of Harper, who watched with a sick pleasure as his boss picked up a knife that had been dropped by a fleeing Gerentexian and walked over to the cowering Nightsider. She looked at him for a moment with open rage and disgust, then lifted the knife above her head with murderous intent in her eyes.

For the second time in the past ten minutes someone stopping a blade from obeying what gravity intended. But this time it was not Rommie who saved a life, but a fierce golden girl with an iron grip.

'Trance? What the hell are you doing?' Beka screamed in frustration.

'You can't kill him, Beka, you mustn't!' Trance didn't relinquish her painful grip on Beka's wrist. The two women stood there for a moment, looking like a crazy statue.

'Can't kill him? Trance, this bastard had Harper murdered! He cut off Harper's head like he was a sick dog! _Our_ Harper, your friend, don't you remember?'

'Then Harper is dead?' Rommie asked. She was standing between them, wondering what was going on. She felt the strangest of sensations running through her. It was similar to what she felt when her shiplier half ran into an asteroid belt. She had felt Harper's heart stop beating, for his vital signs were being constantly monitored on board, but she had retained a wild hope that it might just be a malfunction. No one answered her; there was really no need.

'Yes, I remember. And I will tell you the same thing I told Harper the last time he tried to do the same thing that you are doing right now: There isn't enough love in this universe, and we are not helping to keep what there is by going around killing each other.'

'Oh, I _see_. I'm supposed to _love _Gerentex, is that it? Give him a hug, a kiss on the cheek? "Oh well, Harper's dead but who cares, right? Just so long as we _love_ each other." Well, the hell with love, Trance. Me killing him is just my way of showing how I loved Harper!' She tried to pull her arm away but Trance held on tight.

'So that's it, is it? You kill him and everything will be fixed? Three cheers for sweet revenge? Harper's dead, Gerentex is dead, and you're still as empty as ever but so long as it's all in the name of vengeance that makes it OK? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth and all that? Well, let me tell you something, Rebeka Valentine: a very wise man once said that an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind, and that means you. Before you do this you have to ask yourself if you want to be blind. 'Cause if you don't then you'd better give me that damn knife right now!'

'I can't, Trance, I have to do this…'

'No you don't! Come on, Beka, it's what Harper would have wanted.'

'No it bloody well isn't!' Harper interjected, furious. It wasn't what he wanted _at all_. What he wanted was Gerentex's head on a plate and his head back on his shoulders.

'Yes… Yes, my dear, listen to her!' Gerentex added hopefully, lifting his head a little. 'It's what good old Harper would have wanted. Oh, how I regret my harsh actions now…'

'_Shut up_!' Beka screamed, wrenching her arm free. She lifted the knife once more and this time Trance didn't try to stop her. 'You sick, twisted, devious… Don't you _dare _sit there and lie to me you pathetic excuse for a living being. Don't you dare try to pretend that your heart is anything but a lump of stone. I should kill you right now, slowly, and it would be more than you deserve!' She was suddenly lost for words, and Harper cheered her on, willing her to drive the blade into Gerentex's flesh. Which was why words were not enough to describe his disappointment when Beka let the knife clatter to the ground, where Trance whisked it away with barely disguised relief. Beka dropped to her knees and sobbed.

'Nooo!' Harper yelled, trying to shake her out of it. 'Come on, girl, this is not the time to act all forgiving and love-thy-enemy-y! Just stab him where it hurts and get it over with!'

'Tyr!' Trance called to the Nietzschean, who was happily dispatching one of the Gerentexians that had not been quick enough to escape. He looked up, his chest heaving. 'Take this… _thing_… back to the Andromeda and lock it up,' she snapped, briskly kicking Gerentex away; he had been doing his best to grovel and kept pulling at the fabric of her coat. 'Feel free to cause him pain but _don't kill him_.'

Tyr smiled grimly and yanked the Nightsider to his feet. He dragged the rat-faced outlaw away, viciously twisting one of Gerentex's arms up behind his back. Tyr had always been fairly protective towards Harper and had taken his death as a personal insult. He was not the only one.

'Oh, well that's just great isn't it?' Harper snapped in disgust as Dylan and Trance helped Beka back to the Andromeda. Rommie did a last quick sweep of her surroundings before following them. He was deeply annoyed that Gerentex was still alive, but on the bright side at least he wouldn't have to put up with the ghost of the hideous beast and his horrible nasal voice whining in Harper's ear for the rest of eternity. He looked around hopefully one last time in case Death had got over being tricked and was going to give him a second chance, but there was nothing. Seeing that he had no other option, Harper followed the others back to the old high-guard ship.

-

_Thanks to all who reviewed, I hope you liked it!_


	3. Chapter 3

_The Hannah apologises a million times over for not updating sooner! She is a FOOL! Here yo go, enjoy if you still remember what happened in the last chapter._ : D

**Chapter 3**

_"And you said something_

_You said something stupid like,_

"Love steals us from loneliness."

_Happy Birthday._

_Are you lonely yet?"_

From _Love Steals Us From Loneliness_ by Idlewild

'Trance? Hellooo? Come on, talk to me, baby. You're the most mystical person on this ship and if you can't hear me then no one can!' Harper's attempts to talk to people had so far had a success rate of zero, but he hadn't got where he was today by giving up. He was sitting next to the golden girl on a bunk in her quarters. She was holding a framed picture of him in her hands so tightly that her knuckles were white and was crying quietly, the tears falling onto the glass. Harper probably should have been feeling sorry for her, but from his point of view she had nothing to worry about. He waved a ghostly hand in front of her face. She didn't realise.

Harper stood up impatiently. This was no good. Trance had been his last hope for contact with the living; this was the girl who saw myriad possible futures spread out in front of her like branches on a tree, and he had hoped that with her seemingly telepathic abilities she might be able to hear him. Either she was deliberately ignoring him or she couldn't hear him.

He snorted in disgust. He had come to the conclusion that being dead totally sucked: no food, no Sparky Cola, no fixing things, no one to listen to his witty repertoire. He was half-saddened, half-annoyed by the way that the crew was mourning his passing when he was still here. His gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Beka. Harper looked up and shuddered.

Beka looked terrible. She had not been eating enough and was scarily pale, with dark shadows under her eyes. She had run out of moisture to cry with and her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, her throat hoarse from all the screaming and shouting she had done. When she walked in, it could have been because she wanted to talk to Trance or it could have simply been by accident, she looked so lost and distant. Trance quickly forgot her own grief and went over to hug Beka. The blonde girl was limp and unresponsive.

'Beka, I'm so sorry,' Trance said, her eyes filling up with tears. 'He was my friend too, and I miss him so much. At least he's at rest now; I bet he's up there somewhere right now, drinking beer and laughing at us all.'

'Huh, I wish!' Harper said, folding his arms. 'Well, you're wrong, 'cause I am so totally _not_ at rest. I'm gonna stick around here and haunt your asses off!' To prove it, he waggled his fingers in front of Beka's face and made ghostly noises. She ignored him and leaned forward to hug Trance, walking right through Harper. The engineer stepped back, deeply annoyed.

'I know, Trance, it's just so hard to look round and not see him there any more. I keep going to sleep and forgetting that he's gone, and then I wake up and remember and…' she looked down at the floor, her limp, tangled hair obscuring her face. 'All that I can see, over and over again, is him struggling while those things held him down, and that axe coming down and…' She couldn't put it into words. The sound of Harper's screams, and the horrible way that they had been cut off when the wickedly sharp edge of the weapon hacked his head away. It had only taken a few seconds, but it would haunt her for a lifetime.

'Look, go back to your quarters,' Trance said with real concern in her voice. 'Fix yourself a drink, get a good solid meal inside you and go to bed, OK? No offence, but you look terrible.'

Beka nodded and took a deep breath and shook herself, making an effort to get control of her overwrought nerves. 'OK, I guess I'm just gonna take another shower.' She hadn't stopped washing since they had got back, as if she could still see Harper's blood in the cracks of her skin. Trance wanted to say something else to comfort her friend, but she was still in shock herself.

As Beka walked out of the room, Harper stared after her thoughtfully. He tried to remember all the films he had seen with ghosts in, and the things that they had done. He remembered something that made him smile. Perhaps it was just a sick, stalker-type thing to do, but when was he going to get a chance like this again? He followed her, walking through the door without bothering to open it first, not that he could have done anyway.

Beka peeled off her clothes, still unable to shake the feeling that they were soaked in blood, despite having got changed three times since they had got back. She tapped a control panel on the outside of the shower stall, setting the temperature so high that when she stepped in she felt as though her skin was being stripped away. A vent in the wall removed the thick water vapour rising up around her. She poured a pool of clear soap into her hand and rubbing it into her skin until it turned to a rich, creamy lather. She looked down, searching for ribbons of rust-red blood amongst the water. Of course, there were none. She had washed the last traces of blood away long ago, and she didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that there was nothing left on her of Harper. She closed her eyes against the salty tears that dribbled down her face anyway, washed away by the hot water, unaware that curious eyes were watching her.

Harper leaned as far up against the clear screen as he could without passing through it. In the back of his mind was a tiny voice telling him that this was a gross invasion of his boss' privacy, that he was going crazy with loneliness. He ignored it. His eyes traced the soft curves of her body hungrily, looking at her long, muscled limbs and her pained expression. He was looking for something inside of himself; he had fantasised about this opportunity for years, surely there must be some part of him that was enjoying this? Yet he looked at her and felt nothing, just a hopeless sorrow. In his fantasies she had at least known the way that he felt.

It struck him as strange that he was no longer lusting after her like he had done when he was alive. _Well, looks like being dead totally kills your sex drive_, he thought absurdly. He wanted to laugh, but didn't, as if he was scared she might hear him. He looked at her one last time and, like before, felt absolutely nothing.

'Yeah, it's just not the same, is it?' a voice whispered in his ear. If Harper had had any skin he would have jumped right out of it. As it was, he jerked away from the shower stall as if it had become red hot and stared at the person who had spoken to him. He was speechless for a moment, then after a few seconds managed to pluck up the energy to say one word.

'_Bobby_?'


	4. Chapter 4

I'm gonna update this before I forget it again. All who reviewed are wonderful, lovely, beautiful people and you all deserve medals for making me so happy with your lovely comments!

**Chapter 4**

_"You either sink or swim so you have to mature otherwise you'll regress and not get along with everyone anymore."_

Gerard Way (My Chemical Romance)

'Surprised to see me, kid?' Beka's 'psycho ex-boyfriend' smiled sadly at him. He had changed a lot since Harper had last seen him; the parts of him that had been replaced by machine when the landmine had blown him apart were once again human body parts, and his dataport was gone. He was still tall and broad-shouldered, with tough features and thick brown hair. He was everything that Harper wasn't. Perhaps that was why the engineer had disliked him so much, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that the guy had repeatedly tried to kill him.

'Uh… yeah, Bobby.' Harper realised what he had been doing and if he had been alive he would have blushed furiously. 'Um… look… I wasn't… I mean, with Beka and all…' his voice trailed away into nothingness.

'I understand. It's so much easier to get close to people when they don't know you're there.' He turned back to look at Beka with an anguished expression. Harper didn't know what to say.

'Well… I mean… I gotta say, you're the last person I thought I was going to see,' Harper said honestly, unable to disguise the relief in his voice. At least now he had someone to talk to. Then he remembered that this was, after all, Bobby Jensen, the guy who had lied to him, kept Beka away and had ultimately made his life hell, and his heart hardened. He looked at the ghost in front of him. Gone were the arrogance, the self-confidence and the righteousness. All that was left was a sad dead guy who got his kicks out of looking at naked ex-crewmembers. _Sound familiar?_ Harper's troubled mind broke in nastily. 'What are you doing here anyway?'

'Same thing as you, Seamus…'

'Harper,' Harper interrupted instinctively.

'Same thing as you, Harper, I'm just hanging around wondering why I'm here and when I'll get to move on. I might ask the same thing of you, or do you usually spend your time watching my girlfriend take a shower?' He winced. 'Ex-girlfriend.'

'Yeah, but, what I meant was, how'd you manage to get away from the Reaper?' Harper pestered him desperately. He needed to know that he had done the right thing.

'Reaper?' Bobby frowned. 'I don't remember a Reaper. I think He only comes when it's your time to move on, when you don't have any unfinished business left.' _Oh crap_, Harper thought. It seemed that he hadn't done the right thing. However, Bobby was looking at him with a sudden interest. 'So… you met Death, then? Wow, that's heavy. What was He like?'

'Uh, kinda gullible,' Harper replied distractedly. 'So what happened to you then? I mean, the last time I saw you there wasn't a whole lot of you left.' It was true. He had joined Beka, if against her will, when she had received a message that Bobby had died and was asked to identify the body. However, once again he had lied to the tough blonde Captain, and despite stepping on a landmine was still very much alive, albeit minus a few limbs and vital organs. He had locked Dylan, Beka and Harper up as hostages and tried to take over the Andromeda. Beka had made a quick decision when Dylan's life was in danger and sent about 60,000 volts of pure electricity coursing through her ex's mechanical body. Harper had thought that he would never have to face Bobby Jensen again. It seemed he was wrong.

Bobby shrugged. 'I guess machines don't have ghosts. You can't see it yourself, but your dataport is gone as well.'

'Huh?' Harper lifted a protective hand to his neck, but of course could feel nothing. He looked in the mirror only to find that he had no reflection. It was strange because he would never have to use it again, but he had felt that the little port had become a part of him. Bobby looked at him sympathetically, then with open curiosity.

'So, kid, how did you bite the dust then? Overdose on that Spiky Cola or whatever it was that you drank?'

Harper bristled at the remark, but before he could reply he heard the whisper of air being pushed aside by the blade, felt the cold metal biting into his neck once again. He shuddered and closed his eyes, trying to get rid of the image. He saw a misted view of Bobby's impatiently waiting face through his transparent skin.

'You know,' he almost spat the words out as if they were leaving a nasty taste in his mouth. 'You really are an insensitive bastard.'

Bobby blinked at him, then grinned in what Harper thought was a rather stupid manner. 'Haha, very funny, Seamus. You mean you are actually offended by me? Come on, tell, you know you want…'

'I got my freakin' head sliced off, OK? Are you happy now, or would you like more detail? Maybe you want to know how it feels to go through hell to survive life in a human ghetto and being infested with Magog eggs, just to have it all end with being… _executed_… by my least favourite person in the universe, without even a fight. Is that what you want?' If he had needed to breathe, Harper would have been gasping for air by now.

Bobby stared at him for a split second, then lifted a hand to smack Harper round the back of the head like he would have done in the good old days. He suddenly remembered that he would never be able to hit Harper ever again, and the hand fell back to his side like a dead fish.

'Yeah,' he sighed, and Harper was shocked and slightly uncomfortable to see that the big guy was crying. 'I know what you mean. You know, all the time when I was helping the Mugani, even when I was being blown apart by that landmine, all I could think of was her; her lips the way she smelled first thing in the morning, the feeling of her hair on my skin. When they were stitching me back together, all I could remember was the way she rejected me, mostly thanks to you and your incessant inability to keep your fat mouth shut…' he glared hatefully at Harper through his tears, then collapsed back into self-pity mode. 'You know, kid, they say that it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. That's not true. I would rather I had never met her than to go through what I went through when she chucked me off the Maru. When I met her again, I thought it was my second chance…'

'And you showed your undying love for her by taking her hostage, trying to take over her ship and trying to kill her captain,' Harper muttered, unable to resist. Bobby ignored him, too absorbed in his own thoughts.

'Anyway, I was wrong on that front. We don't get second chances, kid, we just wander around making false interpretations out of meaningless things, and then the universe's last cruel joke is to kill us after we've spent our whole lives surviving.' Harper had often thought the same thing himself, but when Bobby said it, it was just so damn _depressing_. He needed to say something to comfort the guy, something which he had thought he would never want to do. If Bobby weren't already dead, he'd be drowning in his own self-pity.

'She never stopped loving you, you know? She only killed you because you were trying to kill Dylan, and because you had already lied to her and hurt her. It hurt her so much, what she did to you,' Harper said, crossing his ghostly fingers. Amazingly, Bobby seemed to be buying all this girly-magazine bullshit; in fact he was smiling so much he seemed to be bursting in happiness. Now that Harper looked at him closely, Bobby seemed to be growing fainter, breaking up.

'Thank you, Harper. I always knew it, I just needed to be told.' Harper frowned, then realised what was happening. He leapt forward, trying to grab Bobby's slowly disintegrating shoulders. His hands met no resistance; Bobby could have been made from thin air. At least, that was what he was turning into.

'Oh no, don't you _dare_ go getting all fulfilled on me. You still have unfinished business! You gotta help me get out of this dump! Bobby! _Bobby?_' It was too late; the ghost of Bobby was gone, leaving Harper yelling at nothing. 'Crap!' he snapped crossly. He was alone again. He was about to start ranting and raving when he was interrupted by a tiny sound from behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_"He's stuck, that's what it is. He's in between worlds. You know it happens sometimes that the spirit gets yanked out so fast that the essence still feels it has work to do here."_

From _Ghost_

* * *

Harper turned around. Beka's kitten had been asleep on a chair in the corner on the room, but now it had lifted its head and was looking at him. Not even around him or behind him, but directly at him, and it was mewing quietly. Beka heard it too.

'Kitty? What's wrong?' Beka walked out of the shower, completely naked. She grabbed a soft, white towel from a shelf and wrapped it around her. Her usually blonde hair was dark from the moisture and lay in unattractive rats-tails against her bare skin. She had stopped crying and was frowning at the kitten. She followed its gaze until she was looking right at Harper as well but, unlike the kitten, saw only a bare wall. Harper was amazed. It seemed that animals really were more receptive than humans were.

Beka picked the kitten up, but it struggled and scratched her until she dropped it with a yelp of pain. It landed splay-legged on the white tiles and scrambled to its feet clumsily. It trotted over to Harper and tried to rub its tawny body against his leg, but of course fell right through him. For one surreal moment it seemed that Harper had a small cat in the place of his foot. Then the frightened feline backed off, hissing, with its ears flat against its head. Harper made coaxing noises with his tongue and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, but this only served to terrify it even farther and it darted away and hid trembling under the bed.

Beka had watched the whole thing with an open mouth and wide, dark eyes. She didn't even bother to try and comfort the kitten, just stared wildly around Harper and behind Harper, anywhere but actually at him. She suddenly started to shiver, wrapping the towel a little tighter around her. Harper saw tiny goosepimples rise on her flesh. He wondered if maybe his ghostly presence was making the room cold, then he realised that she was scared.

'Harper?' she whispered tentatively.

'YES! Yes, come on, Beka, it's me! I knew it, come on, Beka listen to me…' he crossed the room in a flash and stood in front of her, shoving his face right in front of hers. But of course she still couldn't see him. She shook her head and gave a sad little half-smile.

'Being silly,' she muttered, barely audible, and then began to dress slowly.

'Nooo! Kitty, tell her. Come on, you stupid hairball, what good are you if you can't let people know I'm here?' The cat remained stubbornly shivering under the bed. Harper snorted in disgust. Beka finished dressing, raked a hairbrush through her hair and straightened her clothes. 'Beka, come on, be open-minded for once in your life! Listen to the cat! Beka!' Useless. He sighed, then turned around with his arms folded.

'Hello, Wall. I've decided to talk to you now, 'cause I'll probably get more of a response,' he said disgustedly. Beka was unaware of his annoyance and left the room. Harper didn't bother to follow her; there was no point. He was alone once more, if you didn't count the wimpy little kitten under the bed.

Harper thought. Nothing.

He thought harder, and the beginnings of an idea started to form in his head.

He no longer had a physical body, that much was obvious. But what could he do before he died that didn't require a body? He felt the answer stir at the back of his head. He concentrated on it, wishing for some kind of solution. He was an engineer. He messed about with things, he put machines back together, but sometimes he didn't have to use his hands

(You can't see it yourself, but your dataport is gone as well.)

sometimes he just had to use his mind, when he had to jack in to the Andromeda…

The dataport. He didn't need it any more but…

What if he really didn't need it?

Harper's eyes went wide. He ran, ploughing through walls and floors, looking for a port where he normally would have jacked in. What if he didn't need a dataport at all any more? After all, the part of him that went into the Andromeda sure as hell wasn't his body, it was his mind, and his mind definitely wasn't with the charred remains of his body.

* * *

Harper stood in front of the control panel. Now that it came to it, he wasn't sure what his intentions were. The theory was there but he had no idea of how he was going to go about it. Then he thought of the way that the crew had ignored him, of Beka's tears, Bobby's half-crazed loneliness. Most of all, he thought of Gerentex. He squatted down and concentrated with new resolve.

He reached out a transparent hand, his fingertips hovering just over the tiny hole in the panel. He thought of Beka, he thought of Trance, he thought of Dylan. Hell, he even thought of Tyr. He curled his hand into a fist, then flexed it and touched the tip of one finger to the port. His head buzzed, he lost his form and felt himself being pulled into the Andromeda, jacking in like he had done so many times before. He saw thousands, no; billions of flashing lights and codes like little coloured stars. Then his vision cleared and he looked around with a proud smile.

He was in.

Time to play poltergeist.


	6. Chapter 6

_My many thanks to you, wise and wonderful reviewers! For your reward, here is next chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 6**

_"You have got to take the upper hand in all situations or people, whether they're dead or alive, will walk all over you."_

From_ Beetlejuice_

* * *

Gerentex shifted until he was lying on his side. Uncomfortable. He rolled over onto his stomach. Suffocating. He lay on his back and scowled at the ceiling. Back when he was a messiah, he had slept on soft cotton sheets with silk blankets and pillows. Now he was reduced to this. Of course, he had been a prisoner many times before, but this was just humiliating. He had finally made it onto the Andromeda and now he was being locked up like an animal. True, his surroundings were a lot more comfortable than what he had previously experienced, but after losing about sixty faithful followers he was entitled to a little sulking.

He needed someone to blame. Naturally, he blamed Harper.

After all, the annoying little runt had provoked him to the point where he had had no choice other than to kill him, as he had threatened to do so many times before. If it weren't for the boy's stupid little comments then maybe he'd still be alive, and Gerentex wouldn't have had revenge wreaked on him by the angry crew. That big stupid Nietzschean had nearly twisted his arm off. That would leave a mark, maybe even a long-term injury. Stupid crew. Stupid Harper. Stupid Andromeda.

This was disgraceful; he was sure these cold, damp surroundings were making him ill. He was starting to feel a little light-headed. In fact, he felt light everywhere, it seemed that he was losing weight rapidly. At first it was just a little strange. Then his back stopped touching the bunk, and Gerentex panicked.

The Nightsider screamed and thrashed, kicking blankets in every direction. Someone had activated the anti-gravity, and he was floating, weightless in mid-air and still rising. One of his windmilling arms struck the ceiling and he screamed in fear, his voice absurdly high and squeaky. He was stuck on the ceiling now, and he was feeling extremely sick. He started begging every God he had ever heard of, including the one that he had invented, to make it stop. Whether because of his prayers or not, it stopped.

Gerentex crashed to the ground and cowered in a corner trembling.

* * *

Rommie frowned slightly. 'Dylan…' she said, in a voice that suggested there was a lot more to come.

'What is it, Rommie?' the captain looked up wearily from a star-chart. He had also been deeply affected by Harper's death, burying himself in his work. As a result, he looked exhausted.

'Someone is manipulating my main life-support controls on the lower decks,' she said, then raised an eyebrow. 'In the cell where Gerentex is being held.'

'What?' he demanded, standing up so fast that his chair fell over. 'Who?'

'I can't tell. Whoever it is has blinded my sensors very effectively in that particular control centre. I can't see anything or override it.' She paused. 'First the artificial gravity went, now the temperature is starting to drop.'

* * *

Gerentex shivered violently, his breaths clearly visible. Frost was starting to form on the walls, cold air rushing in from a vent. Nightsiders were naturally thick-skinned, but even he couldn't survive in these conditions for long. Every single muscle in his body was tensed up against the cold. Why wasn't someone helping him? Unless this was their intention: to save him a stabbing from Beka only to leave his blood to freeze in his veins. What had she said about his heart being a lump of stone? It soon would be if this didn't stop. Maybe it was Beka doing this, or that stupid android that had driven his followers away. He closed his eyes and waited for it to stop.

Then it did. The cold air stopped rushing in. The cell was finally starting to warm up, and Gerentex gave a little cry of relief as his blood stopped freezing and his muscles slowly relaxed in reaction to the warmth. Finally it reached room temperature, but it didn't stop there.

First he was just a little uncomfortable. Then he started to sweat, the sticky droplets gluing his clothes to his skin, and he swiped a hand across his forehead. It was still getting hotter, now it was like a warm summer's day on Earth, and getting hotter. The room was starting to turn into a furnace, now sweat was literally pouring off of him and he moaned, realising that this was to be the method of his demise: boiled like a rabbit in a pot.

* * *

'Temperature still rising…' Rommie said, with urgency in her voice. Dylan was pacing back and forth, biting his nails.

'Can't you see who's doing it?' he snapped finally. 'Can't you even see where this is coming from?'

'Dylan, right now it could just be a malfunction, or it could be deliberate. There are so many firewalls up that it will take me at least five minutes to break through.' In Rommie-time this was abnormally slow.

'In five minutes Gerentex will be dead,' he retorted, not bothering to add that he wouldn't shed any tears over their prisoner's body.

'I'm doing my best!' she said, not angrily, but like she was talking to an impatient child. Then she frowned. 'Dylan… the temperature's dropping again.' Another pause, then she relaxed. 'It's stopped at normal temperature.' She was glad that her failure to take complete control of such a simple system had not lead to a fatality, but she wasn't jumping for joy that Gerentex was still alive.

* * *

Gerentex let his breath out in a relieved rush. He stank from sweat, his skin felt like it had been dipped in lava and he was scared out of his wits, but he was alive. He swore, then burst into peals of relieved laughter, on the point of hysteria. He stood up, trying to control his shaking legs, then turned around. His mouth dropped open.

Unlike cooling the room, heating it was done by heating up the walls. Heat them up enough and they would start to change colour as a kind of warning. Normally, the walls would all be heated at the same time, so that if any colour change occurred, it would be the same all over, only this time that had not happened.

On the wall that Gerentex was now facing, the wall had been carefully heated in certain places to create sloppy, crude but still legible writing across it. His eyes scanned the six letters with open horror, the reflection of the blood-red writing in his wide eyes. He staggered backwards, landed on his butt and cracked his head against the wall, knocking himself out cold. His eyes slid closed, and he could no longer see the otherworldly message, the message that read:

**ROUND TWO TO ME RAT FACE**


	7. Chapter 7

_Hi all! Been a few days since I last updated, but before I do I just wanna thank each and every one of you for reviewing! Run away now if allergic to any of the following:1) Bears 2) Animal fur in general 3) Hugging._

_iHUGtrees - Yes, come to the hannahthewriter all-natural shopping plaza, cliffies a speciality! _

_Shakia - Awww, thanks!_ :blush: _I thought it'd be a good idea to put it here in case I lose my disc again, but I'm glad you think it's awesome._

_Ria Erif - Dialogue is a wonderful thing, I agree. Er... sorry that what happens to Harper is not very pleasant. I can't help it! It's an affliction!_

_gotmilk - "HOLY DECAPITATION, BATMAN!" lmao! Bobby is a weird dude in general, but since I had Gerentex I couldn't resist dragging in another old friend too._

_Darkside Alexis - Maybe we will get a Harper sighting sometime soon, or maybe not! But come on! Ghosts are supposed to go peeking at people in showers! It's like the law!_

_Jevvica - Come on, ya gotta love the dead Harper! You know you like it really, dinnae deny it! Hehe coudln't help myself with the MCR reference. I was listening to Thank You For the Venom when I was writing._

_Vinya - LOL, your idea made a little more sense, but I wrote this fic a looong time ago. Um... too late to go back and change it? Oh well._ :Continues to think of plot twists for TFP3:

_Maikafuiniel - Phew! Did I spell that right? Cool name! Ramblings are always cool (and I am guilty of being a rambler myself). I love reviews that ramble!_

_deranged black kitten of doom - Hehe it may be I don't get too many reviews becuse the story is crap...or 'cause the summary is crap. Maybe I should put "HARPER DIES, HARPER DIES!" in big letters. But I get more than enough lovely reviews to keep me happy. Lol, love your Gerentex the Ping Pong Ball idea!_

_childofGod -_ :salutes: _Update is here! Glad you find the story interesting!_

_Awohali - I shall, look I think I see an update already! It's just down there! Look!_ V

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_"You might say shes caught between a rock and a hard place  
You might say she just cant win  
Some just cant recover from a slap in the face  
Some just get right up and start all over again."_

From_ The Harder They Fall_ by John Denver

* * *

Andromeda crashed through the last barrier by sheer will, not bothering to decode it. It had taken her approximately five minutes and seven seconds to locate the intrusion and get in. She was late.

Andromeda's hologram flickered into view, and she looked around, immediately catching sight of the entity that had been manipulating the gravity and temperature levels. He was crouched down, one hand effortlessly fiddling around with the controls; the other lifted to his mouth to smother uncontrollable mirth. She stared at him, unable to register what she was seeing, because the intruder was Harper. Not even one of the programs that he had installed designed in his own image, but actually Harper.

'_Andromeda?_' Dylan's disembodied voice broke in. '_Have you found it yet?_'

His voice broke her cover. Harper's arm snapped back and he stood up to look at her. He was just the same, no missing head, no blood, and no fire. He was dressed in the clothes that he had been wearing the last time she had seen him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He could only mouth the words at her. From what she could tell, it looked like, _hi Rom-doll_. Then his image flashed and sparked and was gone, and she was left alone, with her mouth hanging open. She shook herself. If she were human, it could have been a figment of her imagination, but she wasn't. Things like this didn't happen to her. After some thought she decided that it must have been a hologram that Harper had left in her system that she had missed when clearing his things out. After all Harper was dead. He couldn't have been deader if he tried; he had been decapitated, then his remains had been turned to ashes. There was no chance of him surviving that.

Some people shuffled loose the mortal coil. Harper had shot off it at a million light-years an hour.

* * *

'Damnit!' Harper screamed in frustration as he found himself back in the conduit. He had been so close! He could have literally reached out and touched her electronic arm, but he had instead been dragged away. Perhaps he had fallen victim to his own firewalls; maybe the Andromeda had kicked him out. It didn't matter now, he had had his chance and now it was gone. He would have kicked something if he had had real flesh and bone. As it was, he muttered incoherently for a few minutes. He wasn't ready to have another shot at possessing the Andromeda; if he were alive then he would have been completely exhausted. As it was, his spiritual energy seemed to have been drained away to almost nothing.

After a while, he got back to his feet. Maybe he couldn't get through to the Andromeda, but at least he'd had his fun. He remembered the look on Gerentex's face when he had seen the engineer's little message, and his face split into an evil grin.

He decided that he had come too far to stop now. If he couldn't talk to Andromeda then he'd just have to redouble his efforts. He closed his eyes and thought.

* * *

Beka was not smiling.

She tossed and turned in her sleep, a light sheen of sweat slicked across her face. She moaned softly, pawing at her face as though it was covered in cobwebs. Beka was having a nightmare.

_she walked down the corridors of the andromeda but they had changed somehow so that they were covered in red dust and then she realised that she wasnt on the andromeda at all it was the cave where harper had died and she was trying to turn back but her feet wouldn't let her and there was a dark shadow behind her and she saw that it was rommie looking at her with accusing eyes go on rommie said and beka didnt want to go on because she knew what she would find but rommie said go on or youll regret it so beka had to go on then beka turned a corner and there was a body slumped against the wall and she recognised it because it was harper she could tell by his clothes but his clothes were covered in blood and she couldn't see his face but she knew he was dead because he wasnt talking to her or trying to comfort her or telling her he loved her_

_she didnt want to go near didnt want to touch that body but she was being pushed forward against her will and she was sitting next to him and she couldnt stop herself she reached out and grabbed his shoulders and pulled him towards her and his head lolled back so that she could see his face and his eyesockets were empty with blood pouring out of them like they had been pecked out by birds and she screamed and screamed but it didn't stop his mouth opened and blood spat out onto her face from between his teeth and there was blood and gore everywhere pouring from every single pore in his body and then there was a swishing sound that reminded her of the sound she heard in her ears when her daddy pushed her on a swing and she was laughing giddily because she liked being pushed on the swing but her daddy wasnt there it was just harper and then blood spurted from his throat and his head fell forward into her lap and then his body exploded outwards like someone had put a bomb inside his ribcage and his guts were dripping from her face and her clothes and bits of his heart and lungs were in her hair and lumps of charred flesh splattered into her eyes and blinded her and all that was left was red_

* * *

Beka woke up screaming, bolt upright with the sheets on the floor and her hair in her eyes. She was sobbing helplessly in fear and disgust; she had never had a dream as bad as that before. She could actually feel Harper's still-warm blood and intestines dripping from her skin. Beka couldn't take much more of this. She needed Harper back, and the impossibility of her wish broke her heart into pieces all over again. She couldn't think of anything else. This was more than mourning, this was an obsession. She couldn't let him go, she could only think of his death over and over again and beg to be able to go back and change it. She dropped her head into her hands and cried quietly. Years of trying to be tough, of trying to appear invincible, had taken their toll on her. She didn't make any sound when she was sobbing.

Harper looked at her, equally helpless. He was sitting on the bed, his weightless body making no impression on the sheets, yet he kept one foot on the floor and the sole of his other upturned out of habit, as if worried he might soil the clean, white sheets. He cupped one of his hands around hers, not quite touching it; he didn't need to be reminded of his ectoplasmic state, not right now. He placed the other hand just over her leg, not out of sexual desire but for the need to just be close to her, to offer whatever comfort he could.

He leaned his head close to hers, so that it was almost resting against her temple. They would never be able to touch again, but when he was this close he could at least imagine he could feel the heat of her skin next to his. He closed his eyes and tried to remember everything about her that he had felt when he was alive. He conjured up the feel of her skin, warm and smooth. She had a tiny scar near her hairline where she had stood up too fast and hit her head on the top of her bunk. He felt that too, the tiny flaw making the experience more real for him. It seemed to be having an effect on Beka as well; her breathing had calmed a little and her heart wasn't pumping blood round her overworked body as fast. She was still doing that silent crying, but she had stopped hyperventilating.

He tried to think of something that would have comforted him at a time like this. He went back through time until he was a small child, and remembered his mother singing songs to him at night, when he had nightmares and couldn't get back to sleep. One song had stuck in his head. He had no idea what it was about, because all the songs had been in Irish Gaelic, which was now considered to be a dead language. The young Seamus had spoken only Common, having lived in Boston all his life, but he could recall the sounds, the soft, slightly husky sound of his mother's voice when she was singing. It had made him feel safe, like the monsters in the outside world would never be able to touch him. Now he found the strange words flowing easily from his tongue as he started to sing to Beka.

'_Ochoin a ri, 'si mo rhibhinn donn,  
Dh 'fhag mi fo mhi-ghean 'us m'inntinn trom!  
Gur e a boichead a rinn mo leonadh,  
'S cha bhi bed gun mo rhibhin donn._'

Amazingly, he seemed to be getting through to her on a subconscious level. Gradually, her sobs faded away and her tears dried, leaving salty trails down her face.

'_Is truagh an drasda nach robh mi 'm bhard  
A ghleusadh clarsach 's a sheinneadh dan  
'S gu 'n innsinn buadhan  
Na maighdinn nasail,  
Mu' bheil mo smuaintean gach oidhche 's la._'

She lay her head back on the pillow. Harper pulled away before his hands could pass through her flesh. She eyelids began to droop as though weighed down with lead weights. Harper looked at her sadly, but didn't stop singing.

'_Gur boidheach, dualach an cuailean min  
A th'air a'ghruagaich a bhuair mo chridh',  
Gur binne comhradh  
Na guth na smeoraich;  
'S tha mise bronach o'n dh'thag i mi._'

Her breathing had slowed down now, so that it was normal again. She was asleep, her eyelids fluttering occasionally but not thrashing about like she had before, with the whites of her eyes showing through. Perhaps she had done it by herself, or perhaps Harper had helped her. It didn't really matter to him as much as he thought it would, as long as she was at peace. He stood up, and then after a moment's thought leaned over and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

'No more bad dreams, babe,' he whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

_It's short but sweet! You got it, it's the next chapter! Thanks for reading and enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_"I'm sick of being ignored and today I am going to play God."_

From_ Education for Leisure_ by Carol Ann Duffy

* * *

'You're lying to me, Rommie,' Dylan said flatly, looking at her accusingly. The android hesitated. She had told Dylan that there it had been a malfunction that had nearly killed Gerentex, not wanting to relate to him what she had seen

(_who she had seen_)

in her vast network of control panels, conduits, backups etc. Unfortunately, she was not built for telling falsehoods and Dylan could see right away that she was hiding something from him. He was about to press her for the truth when they were interrupted by the arrival of Tyr, who was deliberately treading heavily to let them know he was there.

'Have either of you seen Beka?' he snapped, looking at both of them but directing the question at Rommie, who would be able to locate Miss Valentine wherever she was.

'Nice to see you too,' Dylan muttered. Tyr ignored him, once again expressing his disdain at having someone on the ship superior to him.

'She's currently in her quarters, resting,' the android replied after a second's pause.

'Well get her out of there,' Tyr said harshly. 'She's been resting for days now, and it's not damn good enough. We've all been affected by… by what happened.' Dylan was relieved that Tyr had had the discretion not to say it out loud; he didn't think he was ready to deal with that yet. 'But you don't see me moping about, and I don't see you moping about, and if she carries on like this then…'

'I'll turn into a complete loser, even more than I am already?' Beka asked softly from the doorway where she had been listening. 'Are you afraid I'm going crazy, is that it? Maybe I am. It would make all the sense in the world. After all, Harper, my best friend, is dead. I have had the psychological equivalent of a blitz, and I'm entitled to a little insanity.'

Tyr glared at Rommie, who didn't respond. It seemed she wasn't as bad at lying as she thought she was. He turned to look at Beka fearlessly.

'This ship is falling apart. The repairs that we should have made on our last planetfall were delayed, not through the fault of anyone here, but they were still delayed. Now we don't have an engineer. We have several hull breaches, the slipstream drive is unstable and our arms are almost entirely depleted of anything that could prove useful if it comes to a firefight. We can pull through if we all pull our weight, but as far as I can tell I'm the only who seems to have noticed the state that the ship is in.' He finished his speech and glared at each crewmember in turn, his breathing fast and heavy. Dylan looked away guiltily, Rommie just stared at him blankly, but Beka scowl at him defiantly, her lip curling into a sneer.

'Then you obviously don't have the measure of me, Tyr. I know the Andromeda's in a state, I know that I haven't been helping, and I'm sorry. I've… I've been going through some things in my head, and I've realised that you can't change the past. But…'

She was interrupted by the almost-deafening wailing of a klaxon and suddenly red lights were flashing everywhere. Then the Andromeda bucked violently, throwing them all crashing to the floor. Beka was unfortunate to land facedown and her lip was split open. She lifted her head and felt a warm trail of blood trickling from her left nostril and dribbling down her chin. 'What the _hell_ was that?' she screamed over the wailing alarm bells.

Rommie, who was already on her feet located the problem and gasped: 'it's the power generators. One of the valves has slipped and now all the power's being diverted into one of the engines instead of being spread out. If it doesn't stop soon the engines could overload and explode!'

'What? Is it… is it what was happening before? Is it that… uh… _malfunction_ again?' Dylan shot at her, lifting one eyebrow accusingly. Rommie barely registered it, because the same thought had just struck her as well. The image of Harper, crouching down and trying to stifle his laughter came back to her. Was it Harper doing this, or his ghost? Was this some kind of revenge for letting him die? She opened her mouth and was about to tell Dylan the truth when the ship convulsed again, sending her sprawling to the floor. Tyr crashed into a guard rail and flipped over it, landing heavily on his back.

'Sh…'

* * *

'…it,' Harper yelled, looking around him wildly. Red lights were flashing everywhere, and the Andromeda was shaking itself to bits. He instinctively reached out to grab Beka's bedpost and of course his hand just passed right through it. He had remained there after she had left, needing time to think, but now it seemed that thinking time was over.

He walked through the door and out into the corridor, wondering how the hell he was going to find out what was going on, and what he could do about it.

_Please please please don't make me have to stand back anymore let me help them I've got to stop this I've got to be good for_ something!

As if in response to his silent prayers, Harper's surroundings whirled and grew less distinct. The corridor lost its form and solidity. He closed his eyes in terror, and when he opened them he was back in the conduit where he had jacked in to the Andromeda. He only needed to hesitate for a split second. He didn't know how he had wound up here, or what he was meant to do, or even if he would be able to do it, but he knew where he had to start.

His ghostly hand shot out and he touched the fingertip to the port. Blue sparks flashed around his hand and spread to the rest of his body until he was outlined in electric charge. Instead of jacking in, a strange sensation spread through him, a sensation that he hadn't felt since… since…

(_Ow! That_ really _hurt!_)

the feeling of pain. It was both strange and repulsive to him. It shot through his entire ectoplasmic form, making him spasm and jerk, his fingertip still firmly attached to the port as if he had nano-welded it there. For a moment he was tossed about like a rag doll, then the awful voice filled his head.

_Don't you dare! You can't help them if this is their time, stay out of it! Haven't you done enough?_

'It's not their time!' he screamed, not wanting to believe it. He didn't know how he knew this, but he knew that there was nothing he wouldn't do to save them. If it meant him going to hell and spending the rest of his life in fiery agony, having pitchforks stuck in his butt then so be it.

_You think you have a choice in this? You think you can beat me? I stopped you last time, boy, and I could do it again! Just give it up!_

'You bastard!' he whispered hatefully. So that was why he had jacked out when Rommie saw him. He was suddenly furious. 'I do have a choice in this. I'm going to get in there and you can't stop me, not if I really want it!' At least he hoped so.

_You don't want this, really. Why do you want to save them? They didn't save you; they just let you die. They sat back and they were laughing inside, I could hear them, boy, I could hear them!_

'LIAR!' he screamed, twisting and turning violently to try and shake the voice out of his head, most of all because he was worried that he did believe what he was hearing. It had been inside him all along; that tiny whisper at the back of his mind that was asking why. Why Tyr had overpowered his captors and pulled Harper away from the chopping block, why Beka hadn't pleaded with Gerentex to spare her friend, and why Trance had saved Gerentex's life all those years ago, when she must have seen Harper's imminent death.

_Because they all wanted this. They wanted you to die and rot in hell like you're going to when all this is over. I'm going to let you watch them die and you will enjoy it, boy!_

Harper screamed in agony and shook his head. Then he suddenly heard Beka screaming from a long way away, and he was transported back to the night of his death, to her screams back then. She sure as hell hadn't been laughing. Who was he going to believe: his best friend or this nasty, vindictive, patronising voice in his head that was telling him to stand back and do nothing. His face set in fury, and he wrenched his hand free.

'My name is _Harper_,' he hissed, then slammed his fist into the panel.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_"If the sky were to suddenly open up, there would be no law, there would be no rule. There would only be you and your memories."_

From _Donnie Darko_

* * *

Beka screamed in pain as she hit the floor again. The Andromeda was out of control, and every time she managed to stand up she was thrown right back down. Even worse, now the bucking had stopped and the Andromeda was simply shaking violently. They had maybe two minutes at most before the engines blew and they were all vaporised. Dylan was yelling something, but she couldn't hear him. Why did they have to make that alarm so damned _loud_? Trance was simply crouched on the floor with her hands over her head, moaning softly. Rommie was the only one still standing and she was being deeply affected by her shiplier half trying to shake itself to bits; she had two forefingers pressed to her temples and her face was screwed up in concentration. Tyr had mercifully passed out the last time his skull had cracked against the floor.

_Oh my God, we're all going to die!_ Beka thought helplessly, and before she could stop it another thought took form in her mind. _At least I'll see Harper again._

* * *

Harper worked feverishly. By his counts there was about a minute left before the Andromeda blew and he had to watch his friends die. _Don't think like that!_ He silently scolded himself. _They are not going to die!_

Thirty seconds left. He redoubled his efforts.

_What are you even trying for, boy? You're good, but you're not that good. And you'll just hate yourself even more when you see their flesh peeling from their skin because if you were a better engineer then you could stop this all, but you can't._

'Shut up! Just shut the hell _up_,' he screamed, his forehead creased with anger and frustration. Fifteen seconds left.

* * *

In between the smoke and the wailing and the flashing lights, Beka paused for a moment. She was almost sure that, over all the noise, she heard a voice screaming. She strained her ears.

'_Up… shut … hell the… shut the hell up!_' It was distorted and waves of static kept breaking in, but for a moment Beka thought she recognised that voice. Why did it sound so damned _familiar_?

Ten seconds left.

* * *

Harper's hands were moving so fast that even to him they were practically a blur. All he needed was a little longer. He had managed to slow down the flow of power into the engine but unless he stopped it completely the Andromeda would be cut down into more manageable bitesize chunks.

Five seconds left.

'Come on, Seamus, pull yourself together!' he yelled, wanting to hit himself but knowing that there was no time left, and that it wouldn't have worked anyway. He started to hear that nasty little voice in his head again and started humming loudly to try and drown it out. All he needed were a few more seconds. If the universe had never given him any luck and never would again, couldn't he at least be granted this? The thought of Beka, Trance, Dylan, Tyr and Rommie all being blown to bits was too awful to comprehend, as if along with their fragile bodies his whole world would disintegrate.

3 seconds left.

* * *

It felt like the Andromeda was a shuttlecock in some ludicrous, giant game of badminton. It seemed to already be cracking at the edges, with blinding beams of light shining in through the splintering walls. The pressure built up in Beka's head, making her ears pop and giving her the most excruciating headache she had ever experienced. It felt like had stuck her head in a clamp and was slowly crushing it. She reached out, found Dylan's hand and clenched it tightly in her own until she felt his bones creak. If this was truly the end she didn't want to be alone.

Beka remembered all the ships that they had destroyed over the years, and there were a lot. Was this what those people had felt, the ones that she had killed? Had they begged the cosmos for mercy like she was doing and eventually realised that this was it and no one was going to save them? Would those thousands of faceless corpses be waiting for her, to drag her down to hell and exact their revenge? She squeezed her eyes and waited for the end.

One second left.

* * *

Harper was screaming in frustration now as he ran through the final steps. There was no time left, and the fate of everyone on the ship was on his shoulders, weighing him down, slowing him down. He heard Beka screaming again and again, her voice tight with pain. He was so close now… so close, but time was up, and even though he had managed to stop power pouring into the engines he had no idea if it would be enough or if he had done it in time. Then a blinding flash filled his vision, tearing through every inch of his being. His back arched and he screamed in pain, pain that he shouldn't be feeling now that he was dead, that he was sure was only felt in the deepest recesses of the torture chambers in Nietzschean concentration camps. It felt like fire was ripping through him and tearing him to pieces, stripping away every inch of his being. He tried to repeat things to himself, to try and remember who he had been.

_My name is Seamus Zelazny Harper. I am an engineer. I am dead. My name is… my name is Seamus… Seamus Harper. I am…I am… dead. My name is Seamus… Harper… dead._

_My name is Harper. I am dead._


End file.
